


con amore

by valety



Category: Uncommon Time (Video Game)
Genre: Other, POV Second Person, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 13:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7106275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valety/pseuds/valety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aubrey wants to apologize to someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	con amore

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for both extra dungeons!! also, warnings for references to grief, codependency, and toxic/unhealthy relationships
> 
> (feral I'm so sorry if this butchers your characters fhsfhk I tried to make it not completely awful)

The first time you go to see Lady Arietta of your own volition, you are seventeen years old, two thousand years have passed, and you're accompanied by her great, great, great, etc. grand-descendant.

The whole situation is more than a little bit surreal, and so you do your very best not to think about it. You have something that you need to do, after all, and you don’t want to lose your nerve and run away just because the technicalities have become a little bit too much for you to fully comprehend.

“Just remember: if you think about it too hard, you lose,” Alto tells you in what you’re positive is meant to be a reassuring manner.

“But this would still be a little awkward even if it weren’t for the complicated magic involved,” you reply as the two of you make your way through the star-filled corridor of Uncommon Time. “I spent eight years of my life doing everything possible to avoid so much as being in the same room as her. That's not something that is easily forgotten.”

“True,” Alto concedes, pausing momentarily to strike at a horde of fairies fluttering nearby. They vanish with a wail, barely putting up a fight. “But you know what they say - time heals all wounds! Or not _all_ wounds, I suppose,” she adds, looking contemplative. “I mean, there are some things you can never forgive. At least, some things _I_ can’t forgive. But then again, it’s been two thousand years for Arietta, and everybody has their own circumstances, so maybe it’s been long enough to loop back around?” She shrugs. “I guess we’ll just have to keep on going to find out."

“Thank you for the input,” you answer dryly before you can stop yourself, and Alto’s eyes flash cold.

“Alternatively, _you_ can keep on going,” she says with a bright smile. “I was more than willing to accompany you, but if my presence is a source of irritation, then by all means continue by yourself.”

“No!” you answer quickly, and Alto raises her eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Alto, that was unkind of me. I appreciate you being here. I think my nerves may be getting the best of me.”

“Well, that’s okay,” Alto says, and her eyes once again settle into their warm, familiar blue: a summer sky rather than a blade of ice, piercing those she fixes them upon. “You don’t have to be perfectly polite _all_ the time. Still, it’s a little unfair to get snippy over something people can’t control – it’s not _my_ fault that I’m not the best at speaking, and you know I was just trying to help.”

“I know,” you say weakly. “But…like I said, I think my nerves may be getting the best of me.”

A hand slips into yours and you stop walking. For a moment, you and Alto stand alone together, hand-in-hand in the starlight, the expression on her face almost inexpressibly gentle despite the flare of temper she had shown mere seconds ago. 

“I got a little tangled up in my own thoughts,” Alto says apologetically. “But what I was _trying_ to say is…I don’t think you have to be afraid. From what I know of Arietta, she’s not the kind of person who would still hold a grudge against you, if she ever really held one at all. It’s been a long time, and you were basically a kid, and she was just worried about _another_ kid. That’s all.”

“But I was awful to her!” you protest. “She tried to help me, and I…I always knew that my dislike of her was _unjustified,_ but..."

“I don’t think she’d be so petty as to resent you for that,” Alto interrupts, and you fall silent, grateful that she did so before you could make a fool of yourself through your rambling. “I mean, you’d been through a lot. I've said this before, but I think it's perfectly understandable that you had trouble opening up. I even think it's understandable that you resented her a little. I doubt she'll be upset with you about that, and if she is, I’m here, and I’ll stand up for you. Okay?”

That shouldn’t comfort you the way it does, you think miserably. You’re supposed to be learning how to stand on your own two feet. You’re supposed to be braver now, to fearlessly confront your past. But it always takes you far, far too long to realize your mistakes – can anybody really blame you for being hesitant sometimes?

Thank goodness Alto is here to help you take these small first steps. And who knows? Maybe someday, you won’t need her to push you forward anymore. Maybe someday, you’ll take off running on your own. Maybe someday, you’ll be the one pulling her along.

You smile and say, “Thank you, Alto.”

“No problem,” she replies. “Now, are you ready to keep going?”

“I think so,” you say. “I’m still a little anxious, but I feel better with you here.”

You attempt to reclaim your hand, but Alto holds fast, and with a cheerful smile she says, “We can hold hands if you’re still anxious.”

“Oh, _honestly,”_ you mutter. But you let her keep your hand, and privately, you can’t help but feel a little grateful that your partner always seems to know just what you need, even if you can’t bring yourself to say it. Even if you don’t always know yourself.

Somehow, the beauty of the star corridor has not diminished even slightly despite your many, many journeys to and from Uncommon Time. It’s almost heartening, to think that there are some things in the world – or outside of it, as the case may be – that do not fade with time, even if it’s just something as simple as the wonder that you feel when you gaze upon a starry sky.

You fall into something like a reverie as you and Alto wander, too distracted by the slow dance of the infinite stars to think any longer about what you’re about to do.

Or maybe it’s just easier to focus on those artificial points of light than it is to contemplate talking to Lady Arietta by yourself for the first time in over two thousand years.

Either way, you reach the end of the corridor far too soon.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” Alto asks as you begin to approach the warp crystal. 

 _Yes,_ you almost say. _Yes,_ you want Alto to be with you, to protect you. 

But what do you need her to protect you from?

If Lady Arietta is angry, then…then that’s something that you’ll simply have to face, isn’t it? You’re not apologizing for yourself, after all. You’re apologizing because Lady Arietta deserves an apology. If she’s angry with you, then that will be her right, and you'll simply have to bear it.

 _What if,_ something whispers, but no. You know better than to think that Lady Arietta will attack you. You’re simply looking for an excuse, and there’s nothing to be done but swallow down your fear and get it over with.

“No,” you say, and though you think you see a flicker of surprise in Alto’s eyes, you do not falter. “I should do this alone.”

“Okay,” she answers. “But I’ll be right here. If you need me, call for me.”

Ah, that makes it easier. Much, much easier. If you have the option to be a coward, then it doesn’t feel so hard to be brave.

“Thank you,” you say, and, feeling emboldened, you say, “I love you, Alto.”

“I love you too,” she answers readily, and then a gloved hand is cupping your face as she brings her mouth towards yours. She kisses you but once; softly, sweetly, and when she draws back, she’s smiling. 

You smile bashfully in return, feeling even bolder than before. You feel as though the kiss somehow lent you some of Alto’s courage, but you won’t say that out loud. She’ll only laugh, and then you'll blush, and then she’ll laugh some more, and you don’t want to feel embarrassed; you want to hold onto that courage for as long as it will stay with you.

As you press your hands against the warp crystal, you cast a final glance back at Alto. She gives a tiny wave, but before you can respond, you’re enveloped in the crystal’s light and feel yourself disappear.

Your heart is pounding, but...you’re carrying a little bit of Alto’s courage with you. You may be going in alone, but you’re _not_ alone, not really, and maybe, _maybe_ you can do this after all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lady Arietta is waiting for you. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised; she’s the one who created this space, after all, and as a magical imprint, she’s now a part of it as well. Of course she would be able to sense that you were coming. Of course she would come and meet you.

“Aubrey!” she greets cheerfully. “This is a first! Usually you guys all come at once. Where are the others?”

You swallow. There’s a lump in your throat, a hard stone of irritation, but for once, it’s irritation at yourself rather than Lady Arietta. _You’re an adult,_ you chastise yourself. _Don’t be childish. Answer properly._

"I wanted to speak with you alone,” you say. Your voice is a little stiff, but you suppose that can’t be helped when dealing with such an illustrious personage. Why, even _Alto_ became shy the first time she met Lady Arietta. It was actually a little cute, but...no, now is not the time to think about that, Aubrey. Focus on the task at hand.

“You wanted to speak with me? Alone?” Lady Arietta repeats, looking surprised. “This _really_ is a first…hey, did you want to sit down?”

“Sit down?” you say, and Lady Arietta indicates the glowing crystal steps leading to the entrance of the Grand Pause.

The steps are small. If you were to sit, and Lady Arietta were to sit as well, then you would have to sit together, and you would almost definitely end up touching. You may not necessarily _dislike_ her anymore, but you don’t know if you can bear that kind of physical contact yet. It would feel too...intimate.

“No thank you,” you say quickly. “I’m fine. But please, don’t remain standing on my account.”

“Eh, it's not like this form gets tired,” Lady Arietta says carelessly. “But you know, it’s still nice to sit for some reason. Even if I don’t _need_ rest, it’s like my soul remembers how it _felt_ to rest, and then when I sit down, I feel refreshed."

“I see,” you say, watching as Lady Arietta gracefully lowers herself down upon the step. You _don’t_ see, actually, but you know enough to remain polite and noncommittal in the face of things that you don’t understand.

“So why did you want to speak with me?” Lady Arietta asks. Her tone is almost businesslike now, and you feel absurdly grateful to her for cutting to the chase, not leaving you to flounder in attempts at pleasantries and idle conversation as you try and build up to what you want to say.

You take a deep breath.

You think of Alto. You remind yourself that she's waiting for you just outside. But you also think of Saki and Meirin and even Teagan, friends you never thought that you could make. You hadn’t wanted them to come – it had seemed too small and personal a task to warrant bringing them with you – but still, they're all your friends, and you know that they’ll be waiting in Bel Canto should things somehow go badly, ready to help you get back onto your feet and try again. 

Do it, then. Before you lose your nerve.

“I wanted to apologize,” you say at last.

“Apologize?” Lady Arietta repeats, cocking her head. “What for?”

“I believe you know what for,” you say. Your heart is pounding like a drum, and you clasp your hands before you, trying to stop their trembling. You wish now that you'd chosen to sit down after all; standing before her like this, you feel too much like a supplicant, or perhaps a child begging the forgiveness of a parent after misbehaving.

“Well, yeah,” Lady Arietta says, crossing her legs neatly. “I know what I’d _expect_ you to apologize for, anyway. But it’s not like I know you well enough to feel particularly confident in my guess, so I wanted to check before I responded to the wrong thing.”

“I...wanted to apologize for how I treated you in the past,” you say. Despite your trembling, your voice is strong, and you feel a curious surge of pride in that fact. “Even as a child, I knew that it was you who enabled Lord Altair to take care of us. I knew that you sought to help us kids in any way you could. Yet I was cold and rude and stubborn time and time again, and I refused the help you tried to give, and in the end, I threw it all away. I was…unfair to you, and for that, I’m sorry.”

Lady Arietta watches you in silence as you speak, a curious gleam in her eyes. Her expression is carefully neutral, offering no clues.

When you're done, she says, “Just to be clear…who exactly are you apologizing to?”

It’s not the answer you’re expecting.

“You, of course,” you say.

Lady Arietta nods. “Okay,” she says. “I just wanted to check, because towards the end there, it felt a bit like you were talking to somebody else.”

“But who…” you begin.

And you stop, thinking of red pigtails.

Someone who is no longer with us. And Lady Arietta, you’re sole remaining link, your final hope for absolution.  

Your heart sinks.

“I might be wrong, of course,” Lady Arietta adds. “Like I said before, I don’t know you well enough to feel particularly confident about this sort of thing. But…if you _were_ thinking of somebody else…you need to recognize that while I was mad at you before on their behalf, I can’t forgive you in their place.”

You can’t breathe.

“I can’t tell you it’s okay, because I wasn’t the one you hurt. That means I can’t say for sure if it _is_ okay or not,” she continues, and you can feel yourself shrinking down more and more with every word, becoming smaller and smaller and uglier and uglier. “No one can, anymore. And as painful as it is, you might just have to deal with that. You can’t use other people as a tool to make yourself feel better.”

Oh, god.

Even now, after all you’ve grown, after all you’ve learned, you still think only of yourself. You still think only of relieving your own pain.

When will you learn? When will you _learn?_

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, staring down at your taut white knuckles. “This was stupid. This entire thing was stupid. I’ll go.”

You turn to leave. 

But before you can take so much as one step forward, someone’s hand – a strong hand, a steady hand, a soothing hand – falls upon your shoulder, and you freeze.

“Not yet,” Lady Arietta says. “ _I_ need to apologize, too.”

“There is nothing you need to apologize for,” you say immediately. It’s a truth that’s become so deeply ingrained in you that you’re certain it will leave a scar if it hasn’t already. All you do is make mistakes. Any pain you feel, whether inflicted intentionally or not, is but a punishment, one you must endure if you are ever to atone.

“There _is,”_ Lady Arietta insists, and she gently turns you around so that the two of you are facing one another eye-to-eye. Yet again you’re struck by the resemblance between her and Alto. _Alto,_ you think feebly, but no, you won’t call out to her, this is something you must bear if you are ever to be strong.

“I was your father’s partner,” Lady Arietta says, hands still firm upon your shoulders. “I had a responsibility towards you, even if I wasn’t your mother. But I knew you didn’t like me, so maybe I didn’t push as hard as I could have. I could see that you were heading down a destructive path, but I didn’t know what to do, and – well, heck, I _still_ don’t know what I should have done. But I failed you, Aubrey. For that, _I’m_ sorry.”

“But I drove you away,” you say, unable to mask the surprise in your voice. “I didn’t let you have a choice.”

“Maybe so, but I was the adult,” she answers. “You may have made mistakes, but I did too, and they’re mistakes that neither one of us can fix anymore. If you have to take responsibility for what happened back then, then I do too."

You bite your lip, then bow your head so that you can fix your gaze upon the gleaming floor tile, carefully avoiding Lady Arietta’s eyes.

You desperately don’t want to cry. If you do, then Lady Arietta might try to comfort you, and you don’t know if you can take that.

“You’re right,” you say at last, still staring at the floor. “I do sincerely want to apologize, but…not for what I said, exactly. Not _entirely,_ at least. What I really want is…is to apologize for blaming you so much. I know the disasters weren’t your fault, yet I blamed you for them anyway, and…and that was wrong of me. I was _wrong,_ Lady Arietta, I was wrong and I pushed you away and let myself grow jealous and mean, and I did those things because I wanted an excuse to hate you, to hate _some_ thing, and…and if I hadn’t been so petty, then maybe…”

But you don’t get to finish your thought, because suddenly, Lady Arietta is hugging you.

Her arms are wonderful and strong and steady as they enfold you, pressing you against your chest, and you are so bewildered that you don’t even have the presence of mind to pull away.

“You were just a kid, Aubrey,” she says, voice soft, and then her hand is on your hair, stroking it gently. “You were a kid, and you’d been through a lot. If you needed a focus for your grief in order to survive, then I’m glad that I could be there. I just wish I could’ve done a better job of helping you recover, instead of leaving you to drown in it.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, because you can’t seem to remember how to say anything else. “I’m sorry. I wish I could undo everything. I wish I could apologize to Chantal in person. I wish I could have given you chance. I wish…"  _I wish we could have been a family,_ maybe.

But it’s too late for that, and if you dare to voice the thought aloud, then you know that you’ll collapse.

“We can’t change the past,” Lady Arietta says, voice still impossibly gentle, more gentle than you deserve. “But we can move forward. If you can forgive me, then I can forgive you.”

“But there’s nothing to forgive.”

“Then I feel the same way.”

“You make it sound so simple!”

“I don’t see why it _can’t_ be simple,” Lady Arietta replies evenly, and you almost smile, then. _This_ is the Lady Arietta about whom stories were told even two thousand years ago in the prime of her life; the one who never seemed to understand all the unspoken rules of human interaction, of secrets and subterfuge and the burden of memory. Of _course_ it would seem simple to her - two adults who'd wronged each other, both saying they’re forgiven and leaving it at that. Everything balances out.

Why _can’t_ it be that simple?

“It just can’t be,” you say, more to yourself than to the woman you are speaking to. “That’s not how the world works. Nothing can ever be that simple.”

“Hmm,” Lady Arietta says, looking thoughtful.

Then: “Sit down with me.”

Before you really know what’s happening, she’s tugging you down beside her on the steps, and then her arm is around your shoulder, pulling you firmly against her side.

You have no idea how it’s come to this. You were expecting to either be forgiven or rejected and then to immediately leave either way, not to linger and be… _mothered._

“I said before that I didn’t know all that much about you, but just from this conversation, I feel like I’m starting to get a better idea,” Lady Arietta says, and…and she’s still patting your head. Is that something you should stop? “I’m getting the sense that you’re going to feel guilty no matter _what_ I say. At least, you will unless I give you something concrete you can do to make up for it. Is that accurate?"

“I don’t know,” you say, suddenly feeling embarrassed and petulant, as though you've somehow become a child again. 

Lady Arietta stops patting your head.

You say, “It might be.”

She resumes.

“You came her to apologize for pushing me away,” Lady Arietta continues as though the interruption never happened. “And I want to apologize to _you_ for not being more responsible towards you. So it seems to me the best solution is for us to do it over again.”

“…huh?”

“You heard me!” she cheerfully replies, and even though you can’t quite see her face, you imagine that she’s wearing that cat-like smirk of hers. “We have to make up for lost time. If you let me fuss over you too from now on, then we’ll be even." She pauses, then adds, "You can even call me ‘mother’ if you want.”

“I will not be doing that,” you answer stiffly.

Lady Arietta laughs, and for some reason, you feel a bit like laughing yourself, even though your eyes are still brimming with unshed tears.

“Okay, you don’t have to call me mother,” she concedes. “I guess it’d be a _little_ weird, since we’re closer to the same age now. But we can still be friends, can’t we? _That_ seems fair, since you came here to apologize for being cold. Obviously the answer is to become warm.”

You let your eyes fall shut as you consider. 

For a moment, you're completely still, safe in Lady Arietta’s arms, closer to her than you’d ever thought that you could let yourself become.

“That’s fair,” you finally agree. “We can be friends.”

"Thank you," Lady Arietta says, and the arms encircling you become a little tighter. "Thank you." 

It occurs to you that through trying to apologize, your world has become a little bigger. But for that moment, at least, you feel small and secure, and despite every unpleasant thought you've ever had about the woman you are with, there's (almost) nowhere you would rather be. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

You don't know how much time has passed when you finally return.

When you do, Alto springs to her feet from where she'd been sitting cross-legged on the floor. She runs to you, arms wide, and though you want to fall against her, you don't; instead, you open up your arms as well and embrace her just as tightly as she embraces you. 

"Are you all right?" she asks when she draws back. "You're crying." 

"Am I?" you ask, lifting a hand to your face. Sure enough, it's wet. And here you'd thought you'd been doing such a good job of being mature. 

Concern is written all over Alto's face, concern that you'd seen mirrored earlier in Lady Arietta, and you find yourself smiling, because......well, because you're quite lucky aren't you? To have had so many people in your lifetime who've wanted to wipe away your tears? 

"Don't worry," you say. Your smile is trembling, but it doesn't break. "I'm fine." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Are you sure the two of you really want to spend the time you have together with an old lady like me?" Lady Arietta asks. 

"Of course we're sure!" Alto answers confidently. "We wouldn't come here if we weren't." 

"Well, as long as you're certain," Lady Arietta says. "It's not like I'm going to pass up all the sweets the two of you have been bringing me. These tarts are delicious, by the way."

"I'll pass your compliments onto Meirin," Alto says with a smile. Then, turning to you: "Aubrey, do you want to help me make something myself for next time?"

"Of course," you say, "I don't know how much actual assistance I'll be, but if you're willing to have me, then I'd be happy to help."

 _Happy_ might be a slight exaggeration, seeing as how you still don't really care for cooking. But if you're doing so with Alto, then you think you'll be all right.

You finish off the final mouthful of your own tart, listening quietly as Alto eagerly relates the tale of your most recent cooking exploits to Lady Arietta. She listens with an indulgent smile on her face, and you wait for it to begin - that twinge of jealousy that always seems to come to life around Lady Arietta, the one that urges you to scream at her for stealing your most precious person. 

But for once, it doesn't come.

Your brush the crumbs off of your skirt, watching as Lady Arietta pulls Alto towards her for an impromptu hug, and there's no flare of anger, no sharp pang in your chest. There's weariness, perhaps, but that's a given in Uncommon Time; there's sadness, perhaps, but that, too, is a given, knowing how little time you and the others have to spend together in Harmonia.

Above anything else, you feel fondness. Fondness for Alto, of course, but also fondness for this woman who's been so good to her. So good to _you._

Lady Arietta is laughing about something. It's a musical sound, almost like bells, but for some reason, hearing it makes you want to cry.

"Aubrey, is something wrong?" she asks. "You've been spacing out for a while." 

"Eh? Oh, I'm fine," you say. "I'm just thinking about how we'll have to leave soon." 

"Mm, yeah, I guess it's getting late," Alto says regretfully. "We don't want to miss dinner...the last time that happened, there weren't any leftovers and we almost burned down the kitchen trying to make something for ourselves." 

 _That wasn't what I meant,_ you think, but you swallow it down and say, "Yes, that was rather dangerous, wasn't it?"

It's fine, you think. You still have this; you always will. You may have to say goodbye when spring comes, but the time you've spent together will always be yours. You will have the memories you've made. You will be the caretaker of the past, even as you march ahead and forge your future. 

"It's fine," Lady Arietta says. "Go and see your friends. In fact, bring them with you next time! You know what they say - the more, the merrier!" 

"I sort of like getting to spend time with you alone, though," Alto says. She glances down at the hands she has folded neatly in her lap, looking almost bashful, and you're flooded with sudden affection. "It's kind of rare for me to have people I can totally relax around. I mean, I love my friends, but there's still these... _expectations_ there, you know? Being with them all the time can get a little heavy sometimes."

"But it's not like that around Aubrey?" Lady Arietta asks, shooting you a sly grin. 

"Oh, definitely not," Alto says immediately. "Aubrey's not heavy at all! They're just kinda...fluffy."

Lady Arietta laughs. Somehow, you manage to repress the urge to bury your face in your hands. 

As you finally prepare to leave, you're not surprised by Lady Arietta moving to embrace Alto. You  _are_ surprised by her moving to embrace you as well, but you don't resist; instead, you allow yourself to tentatively hug her back.

For some reason, the gesture makes your chest tighten in the strangest way. But you're okay, you think. You're okay, and you'll _continue_ to be okay, even if your old scars sometimes ache a little. 

As the two of you begin to make your way back through Uncommon Time, Alto quietly confides in you, "It makes me really happy that you and Arietta can get along."

Then, in a slightly different tone: "It's...not just for my sake, is it?" 

Somehow, despite everything, it surprises even you when you say, "No, it's not. I really do enjoy being around her."

"That's good," Alto says, looking relieved, and for a moment, the two of you walk in silence. 

Your twin footsteps echo through the corridor, producing a clear, almost musical tone, like fingers tapping on glass. 

"I...want to say that I'm glad that I was wrong about her," you say, intruding upon the silence. "But I already knew that, of course. It's more like...like I'm glad that I was able to _see_ that I was wrong about her, and that I actually had a chance to try and fix things. That for once, it wasn't too late for me." 

Alto's hand slips into yours, and she says, "I'm happy for you." 

You return the pressure of her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, and with a smile, you say, "Thank you, Alto."

"Huh?" she asks, expression puzzled. "What are you thanking _me_ for? I didn't do anything."

Privately you think, y _ou were there for me, you supported me, you gave me the push I needed, you're you, you're you, you're you._ But loud you only say, "Don't worry about it. Let's go home."

And so you leave. 

You've taken an important step, you think. Maybe not the first, definitely not the last, but you're doing it. You're making progress. And someday, you'll look back and be astounded by how far you've come. 


End file.
